Poisonous
by TLOSpyrogirl
Summary: Revenge, I thought, taking one shuddering breath after another. That is what I need. Because of Spyro, Father is gone, the cleansing halted. It is time to act. Spyro will fall, but first, it is time to pay a visit to an old friend. Cynder... understand, this is what you would have wanted.
1. Act 1

Act 1

"Revenge is barren of itself; its delight is murder, and its end is despair." -Friedrich Schiller

"Anger ventilated often hurries towards forgiveness. Anger concealed often hardens into revenge." -Edward G. Bulwer-Lytton

* * *

><p><em>Dedicated to Frogger<em>

_Poison is green/So are frogs/This poem makes no sense/But you deserved a dedication_

_Thanks for being my friend_

* * *

><p>Twilight was descending over the land, wrapping its blanket of shining stars over all under it, but nobody could tell. Every last creature was holed up underground and the only light came from the flickering torches that some moles carried.<p>

The earth suddenly began to shake. Long spasms came, one and then another, until it was ceaseless and everybody struggled to hold their footing. But then, a purple light washed over them. Nobody knew what it was because as soon as it was there it was gone, but they all felt somehow safe. And then, just like that, the quaking stopped. It was over.

The crowd, apprehensive, was still. Complete silence enveloped them as they waited for something to happen. Then, one dragon took a step forward and they were all rushing, pushing to get outside and see what had happened.

And thrust upon was not lava and ash and destruction as one certain member of the crowd suspected it would be. Far from it, in fact. What they saw was a dawn of a new era (to the certain member of the crowd's dismay) and not the rebirth of the world in fire, but in light. And, as night fell ever faster, they could make out something in the stars—a constellation. The bright lights depicted a dragon, wings spread, flying amongst the heavens.

Now, the certain member of the crowd, who was disappointed in what had happened, was named Cottonmouth—like the snake. Cottonmouth was a very dark green colour that was almost black. She had a cream-coloured underbelly that had the same tinge of black in it, but the colour continued on up to her chin. Her eyes, a dull rust red, were narrow with an almost indiscernible yellow colour to them. A bright green, glowing, veins shot up both of her forelegs and turned up onto either side of her mouth, cutting off there. It could be seen clearly, especially when it was dark.

Cottonmouth stared up into the sky, dumbfounded, but not for the same reasons as the others. They were dumbfounded because they were alive—she was dumbfounded because they weren't dead.

Cottonmouth, upon recovering from her shock, now experienced an overwhelming sense of fear. Just a moment ago, she had been smirking, sure that he had been successful, that rebirth would finally happen. But now... now she feared the purple dragon, and was shocked at what he might have accomplished. What if _he_ was... no, she couldn't think that way! Surely, surely there was just a minor complication... an accident... _something!_

In a panic, Cottonmouth fled the crowd and swooped not-so-gracefully into the air. She turned herself towards the Floating Islands and sped off.


	2. An Old Friend

**A/N:**

**So, here we are. Chapter one. There will be three acts, each about 5-20 chapters long. I you have a question, feel free to ask, also feel free to send some crit. I don't bite! (The same can't be said for Cottonmouth, though. :P)**

**Also, my musical inspiration story is the pianoized version of Paint it Black by the user pexi2 on YouTube. Look it up if you're interested.**

* * *

><p>I fled Warfang, in a panic. Surely... surely he couldn't be dead... it was impossible. The plan was going so smoothly; surely nothing could have stopped it... especially that purple menace. What was his name...? Spyro. That was it. The name was so... outlandish. But who cares, anyway?!<p>

Through all of my thinking, I just scarcely realized I had reached the Floating Isles. Landing in the soft grass of the largest island that led to the small fortress, I drew a breath. Home. It had been for the last two, nearly three years, ever since we abandoned the old, ruined fortress.

When I finally regained my senses, I ran up the the fortress. The large, wooden doors, usually closed fast, were now open. I paused before running into the large room.

"Did you—" I began to call out, my voice echoing in the empty room, but was stopped when I saw no entity in the room at all. I paused in slight shock, before scanning the room. There was debris in one part of it, and something in the corner caught my eye. I walked over to it carefully.

Blood. And it wasn't his blood... it was blood from... someone else.

I growled and backed off. Something was _wrong._

I padded over to the middle of the room and looked up at the ceiling. There was a hole in it. Frantically, I hopped to my feet and flew up into the hole with much trouble. I never had been good at flying. Nobody ever taught me, so I learned myself. I was shaky at it—I could barely get into the air, and once I was there, I couldn't go for more than a few minutes without going too slow and plummeting downwards.

Once I was on the roof, I looked around in a panic. There was evidence of a small battle, but they had left quickly and there was no way to trace where they went.

_The volcano!_ I thought. Surely he had led them there! To the temple! That's what happened; he would be standing in the temple triumphantly over his dead foe. Oh, I could taste the victory... I could see Spyro, as he drew his last, pain-stricken breath, his eyes glazed over with terror...

With a dark chuckle, I sped off towards the direction of the volcano, jumping along the islands until I got close enough so I could fly without any casualties.

As I neared the volcano, though, I realized something was very wrong. The temple was gone.

_Did they fall?_ I wondered as I landed on the volcano's edge and peered down. I could see nothing—no bottom, no lava, just darkness. I considered going down to look, but when I noticed how close the walls were together, I realized that I would not have enough room to take off... I would be trapped down there forever.

Shivering, I backed away. Where was I to look now? There was nowhere left to go.

I slid down the edge of the volcano, riding on the gravel. When I reached the bottom, I jumped off and landed on the ground. I laid down where I was. I didn't know how to feel. Was he dead? He couldn't be... Ridiculous. It was _impossible._

"A single dragon couldn't kill him, not on his own..." I murmured to myself. As night fell I closed my eyes and slipped into rest. Maybe when I woke up, it would just be a dream... a distant memory.

~~...~~

I awoke with a start. Something was reflecting a ray of sunlight into my eyes. With an annoyed growl, I sat up to see what was irritating me. That's when it caught my eye; something so familiar it sent a chill down my back. I had seen it before—I had seen it many times, in fact, throughout my life, but I hadn't seen it in nearly three years.

It was Cynder's neck band that had been reflecting sunlight into my eyes. The surprise of seeing her again jolted through me like I had just been shot.

"Am I dreaming?" I murmured, approaching the limp body. Cynder was unconscious, but alive, and that's all that mattered to me.

"I can't believe it..." I said. "Cynder... you're alive! But..." I crouched down beside her body. There were few wounds on her.

"What are you doing here?" I lowered my voice to a murmur again. There had been a battle... did Spyro try to kill her? While I was in Warfang, did she join back up with...

Impossible. I remember... he said he would kill her if he ever saw her again... said when he found out they had captured her he planned to kill her, but then she died... he never told me how... I just figured Spyro had killed her, but here she was, alive. But then, who was she fighting? Either of them would have elected to kill her, so who was it?

I began to scour the area, for sign of a dead body or an alive enemy. For thirty minutes, I found nothing. But, as I began to circle the volcano, I came upon something that made me begin to taste my poison in my mouth.

It was Spyro, just as limp as Cynder was.

I growled menacingly at the sight of him, but he did not stir. Carefully, I walked up to him.

Nothing.

I might have killed him right then and there, while he was sleeping, but I was in a good mood after finding Cynder, so I left his body. Maybe something would find him and kill him without any expense to myself.

Unsure what to do now, I walked back over to Cynder. I did not know where he went... Spyro and Cynder lay alive, yet there was no body to mark _his_ passing... I didn't know what to think. Deciding, finally, that Cynder would need treatment even for her minor wounds, I proceeded to pick up her limp body. There would be no flying like this. I would have to walk.

~~...~~

When I finally arrived at the gates of Warfang, it was nearly midday and I was tired from carrying Cynder around.

"HELLO! Let me in!" I yelled up to the gate guards with a 'don't test me' glare. They peered over the edge and hurriedly disabled the locking mechanism and allowed us entrance. I walked through the gates and watched a small crowd run over to me. Two of them took Cynder from me to be treated.

"Did you find Spyro or Ignitus?" A large green dragon that I completely ignored asked.

"Well, if I did, I obviously couldn't carry them back!" I snapped with an irritated growl, before stalking off after Cynder.

~~...~~

I sat in the corner, watching the dragons tend to Cynder. I was determined to stay there until she recovered.

When they brought Spyro in, I couldn't help the scowl that crossed my face, but nobody seemed to notice. So, he was going to get better. Everything was going to be just _fine_. I felt like spitting out the word. How could I let them find him? I should have hidden the body or killed him...

"So, what's the deal with Cynder?" I asked one of the healers.

"What do you mean?" she asked. She was a pure white color, with bright blue eyes, but otherwise no outstanding features.

"I mean, what was she doing down at that volcano?" I asked impatiently.

"Why, don't you know?" the white dragoness asked.

"I tend to stay out of the affairs of the great people who pass through Warfang. So, no," I replied shortly.

The dragoness shook her head. "She was travelling with Spyro."

"To do what?" I queried suspiciously.

"To defeat Malefor, of course."

"...I see," I said stoically. In reality, my heart nearly stopped. Cynder? First I find her alive after believing she's been dead for almost three years, and now she's with the _enemy_? There was one more thing I needed to find out.

"Did Spyro succeed?"

The white dragoness nodded, before turning back to her work.

At that very moment, at the ending nod, my hate began to manifest itself. I could feel it, bubbling up inside me. I wanted to fly out, to kill him, but I didn't. I restrained myself.

It would not be that easy.

So, I watched and waited, in the corner. When the dragons finally left, I walked over beside Cynder and sat down.

"Sorry, Cyn." I sighed. "I failed you. But I'm not going to fail you again. I'm going to make it up to you." Another sigh. "I promise."

I turned to Spyro, and my mild look turned to a cold glare.

"Bit of advice," I growled. "Don't you ever wake up."


	3. The Strange Girl

But Spyro did wake up.

When he woke up, he was in a panic. He shot up and struggled, but calmed down when he noticed he wasn't in the face of battle.

"Where am I?" he asked aloud.

"You're in Warfang," a cold voice responded. Me.  
>Spyro started and glanced around the room until he caught my eyes. I began to wonder what he was thinking... what a murderer thought about...<p>

Spyro shook his head groggily. "How did I get here? Where's Cynder?" he asked.

I stood and stepped from the shadows. "I brought you here. Your... friend... is still sleeping." _My_ friend. Or at least she was.

Spyro cocked his head quizzically. "Have I met you before?" he asked.

"No," I said sharply. "Go back to sleep or get up. It doesn't matter to me." I receded back into the shadows, the only giveaway of my presence the slight glowing of my veins and the dull color of my eyes.

Spyro stared at the shadows where I went back for a moment before standing up and walking outside without another word. I growled to myself when he was gone. I let the killer walk right past me while he was alone and weak!

No, it was the right thing to do. Somebody would have heard the commotion. The poison wouldn't kill him fast enough, the paralysis wouldn't silence him. He would cry out; someone would hear. No. It would not be as easy as that...

~~...~~

I was beginning to doze off when I heard I slight, surprised cry. Cynder had woken up in much the same manner of Spyro—in a panic. She had leaped up into the air and ran forward a ways.

"Calm down. You're safe," I said to Cynder, stepping out of the shadows She spun around, frightened. "Who are you?" she asked.

Her question saddened me. She didn't remember me. Still, a slight smirk twinged my lips. "I'm a friend."

Cynder began to calm down. "Where am I?"

"You're in Warfang. In some sort of medical place." I tsked. "Spyro is here, too. I brought you back from the volcano. You're welcome."

Cynder nodded, and looked me over suspiciously. "Thank you. ...Have we met before? You look familiar."

I paused. Let her know? No... bad idea. Who knows what she might do? What if she attacks me, now that she's on a different side...?

"I get that a lot. But, no. I have to go now. Goodbye." I slipped out the door before she could say anything else.

~~...~~

"Did you see that strange girl?" Spyro murmured to Cynder. They were sitting inside the main room somewhat of a 'temporary temple', where they and the Guardians would stay until the current temple was fixed.

Cynder looked up from where she had been staring listlessly, deep in thought. "Hmm? What do you mean?"

"The girl, the one with the green markings," Spyro replied.

"Oh. Her. What about her?"

"Well..." Spyro said, suddenly wondering why he brought up the topic, "I don't know. It's just weird. She said she saved us from the volcano, but she acts like she hates me."

"And then she just left," Cynder agreed. "But she was polite to me..."

Spyro sighed. "There's just something about her. As if I've met her before. I just can't help thinking that I've _seen_ her somewhere." He gazed up into the air, trying to remember where he could have seen her.

"I had that same feeling too. I feel as if I've known her for a long time. She just seems familiar... I guess it's just our imaginations."

Spyro nodded in agreement, but still, deep inside him, he just wasn't sure.

~~...~~

I went back to our abandoned fortress on the Floating Islands and I waited. I went to the middle of the room and laid down and I waited.  
>For what? Who knew. A plan. A thought. An <em>action<em>. Something that would come to me and tell me how was I going to get revenge.

As I used to say, eye for an eye. What that means is that I'm not going to go to Warfang, kill everyone I see in a blind, murderous rage, and when I finally get to Spyro, kill him. I would not do that, because it would not be fair. Spyro killed a single person. His punishment would be death, and he was my only target.

It's not that I wouldn't or couldn't storm into Warfang, it's that it would probably result in my untimely demise, Spyro might get away before I could find him, and, as I said earlier, it would not be fair for him to watch me kill all those people for the _one_ thing he did to me.

And it would not be so easy to just walk right up to him in Warfang in kill him. He would always be surrounded by someone, or many someones, so that I could not get close enough to inflict damage and get away without gaining attention to myself.

No, I finally decided, there was only one way to settle this.

I must go to Warfang, gain his trust, and get him to follow me somewhere where the act would not be witnessed. Then, I must strike quickly and get away. If only I could make him suffer... no! He would yell for help. Somebody would come.

But what reason would I have to suddenly appear in Warfang, unprecedented? What story would I have of my background?

That's when the plan came to me. My idea. I knew what I had to do.


	4. Setup

I winced when I slashed into my foreleg.

_Come on, it can't hurt that badly._

I winced again when I slashed deeper into my side with the sharp end of my tail-tip. It was shaped like the end of a rattlesnakes tail, but the end was sharp.

_You've been through far worse._

It was all I could do not to cry out when I cut a deep gash into my leg. My mind offered no advice here.

Finally, just for effect, I ran three claws down the side of my face, leaving shallow but noticeable cuts. Satisfied, I walked over to the lake.

I was in the forest just outside of Warfang. Although some of it had been burned down from the attack on Warfang, it still stood, wide and majestic. There was a lake in one part of the forest, and that's where I was now.

I gazed into the lake. I looked like.. .a victim of an attack.

_Perfect,_ I thought. A drop of blood from the gash in my face dripped into my reflection as I turned away. I regarded my limp with slight annoyance.

_All this is going to do is make you weaker!_ I pushed that thought away. It was necessary. You can't just walk up to someone unharmed and say you were the victim of a raid. You need to make it believable!

And make them, Spyro, mainly, feel sorry for you. Who would think the poor little girl who lost her parents would be the one to end your life?

Two voices distracted my thoughts. Spyro and Cynder. I knew they would come here today. I had seen them leave and knew where they would go.

Preparing myself, I fell to the ground in a heap, as if I had been struck by something.

"Help!" The cry escaped my throat. I held back a snicker. I sounded as if I was actually afraid. "Help me!" I cried again.

They heard me. I saw them come running.

"Spyro! Look!" Cynder exclaimed. I heard her and Spyro come over. "Is she dead...?"

"Help... please..." I sobbed out, suppressing another snicker. I was enjoying myself very much.

"She's alive!" I heard Spyro say. I was helped to my feet. "What's your name?"

"P-Pisci," I stuttered out 'weakly.' I decided right off I would need a new name. Cynder would spot me and my plan a mile away with my current name. I was surprised she hadn't noticed who I was the moment she saw me.

"Come on, we've got to get her back to Warfang!" Cynder said, helping me walk, as I had slashed two of my legs and was limping.

When we got to Warfang, I felt myself begin to succumb to the blood loss. By the time we arrived at the medical hall, I was unconscious.

~~...~~

When I woke up a few hours later, Spyro and Cynder were standing over me. I groaned and sat up, regretting slashing at myself so much.

"Feel any better?" Spyro asked.

"A-a little," I said in the most helpless voice I could muster.

"What happened to you?" he asked. I already had this planned out.

"We... my parents and I... were attacked by... by shadow apes! I was inside and—my parents were outside—and then everything was on fire and something grabbed me and clawed me a few times, but I ran, and... and... and now I'm here..." It surprised me how frightened I sounded. Obviously, I sounded scared enough, as Spyro and Cynder gave me sympathetic looks.

"Where were you?" Spyro asked.

"I was in the forest... we live there... or at least we did..."

"Are your parents safe?" Cynder asked.

"No. They're dead," I replied.

Spyro and Cynder exchanged worried glances.

~~...~~

When I woke up again, I was in the second temple. This time, it was just Cynder sitting beside me.

"Where am I?" I asked, sitting up.

"You're in the temple. The one in Warfang," Cynder replied.

"Why am I here?"

"You can stay here for a while. Until..." She trailed off.

"Look, I don't want or need your sympathy," I said flatly.

Cynder just gazed at my sadly. "How old are you, anyway?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Fourteen." Not a lie.

Cynder sighed.

"Are you going to be alright?"

"I'll be fine. I'm okay, alright?" I said, annoyed, but not annoyed enough to snap. "I'm going outside..." I mumbled, standing up and ignoring my wounds that screamed in protest. I needed fresh air, soon. The small room I was in had a window, but I needed to breathe. Cynder didn't follow me as I left.

The room I was in was high above Warfang, so I had to walk down a floor or two of stairs before reaching the ground floor and heading for the nearest exit. The place wasn't very remarkable in itself except for the size of it. The exit led out into a garden-area, with a low fence looking out over one of the walls of Warfang. Apparently, this temple-place was on a hill.

I sighed and sat down, grateful for the clear day and open air. Not that I hadn't seen enough of Warfang already, but it _was_ a nice day.

My mind began to wander, back to the days when I was younger. How naïve I was then. I didn't even know there was a war.

Or maybe I just refused to understand...

"Are you feeling better?" The voice jarred me from my thoughts. I jumped and whirled around to see Spyro. Was he being sincere? Unlikely.

"I guess I feel better," I said carefully, with a suspicious glare.

"Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering..." Spyro said, giving me a confused look.

Look as innocent as you want. I'm on to you.

"Just stay out of my way," I snarled, skulking past him back into the temple.


	5. Stupid Bug

Later that day, I approached Spyro. He was in the garden, almost as if he had never moved.

"I apologize for snapping at you," I grumbled. I resolved that earning his trust would not be easy if I was deliberately hostile towards him. There would be plenty of time for that later.

Spyro gazed at me. He seemed confused and careful when he said, "It's alright. You must be going through a lot."

I nodded, sitting down. I was still suspicious, but I couldn't let him know that. "So, what's your story?" I asked with a slight tsk.

"My story?" Spyro asked blankly.

"Yeah, you know, your life, people you know, interesting things that have happened to you, et cetera? I figured since I might be staying here for a while I might as well get to know you."

"Well, I hatched in a swamp south of Warfang, near the temple, and was adopted by dragonflies—" Spyro began, sounding somewhat uncertain as to how to explain it.

"Wait, you were adopted by dragonflies?" I asked in bewilderment.

Spyro grinned. I could tell by the look in his eyes he had expected me to say that. "Yeah. They were and still are great parents. Without them, I'm not sure what would have happened to me."

I blinked in surprise. I barely could perceive such an odd family. "Alright... okay, then. Continue."

"Well, when I turned nine, Sparx—my brother—and I were playing tag when we ran across an old snake skull that our parents told us we weren't allowed inside. Sparx flew in and managed to get me to follow him, and when we arrived at the end of the body, we encountered a group of apes. They took Sparx hostage and I was forced to fight them. Somehow, I unlocked my fire breath, and later that day I just knew I had to leave home and go searching for my real family. I needed to know what I was. And Sparx decided to go with me. So, we traveled through the swamp for a while, and after a while we were nearly attacked by—" Spyro was suddenly interrupted by a small yellow ball flitting up to us.

"Hey, Spyro, there you are! I couldn't find you. Is this that creepy girl you were telling me about earlier?" the yellow ball asked. I managed to make him out as a dragonfly. Both Spyro and I shot a glare at it.

"Oh, sorry, did I say that out loud?"

"Sparx..." Spyro groaned.

"Anyway, the Guardians want to talk to you about something. 'It is of the utmost importance that we speak to you and Cynder immediately.' Pfft. Important dragon stuff, I guess. What's her name again?" Sparx asked, pointing to me.

"C—Pisci," I said flatly, almost forgetting myself. This dragonfly seemed way too talkative for his own good.

"I'll talk to you later, Pisci," Spyro said, standing up and walking off to go see what this 'important dragon stuff' was.

_He seems interesting enough..._ I smacked myself for that thought. I couldn't start getting to be too interested in him. Interest always leads to like and friendship, and that was the last thing I needed now. He was my _enemy_. En-e-my. Why did I have to keep reminding myself of that? I sighed and gazed out on the the street below.

I suddenly had the feeling that somebody watching me. "What?" I snarled, realizing Sparx was still there.

"What, yourself! Sheesh!" Sparx retorted, flittering farther away from me. I turned to glare at him, flashing my red eyes.

"Stupid bug," I muttered, turning away and gazing back down, resuming my thoughts.

~~...~~

"So, what was so important?" I asked Spyro, thirty minutes later.

"The Guardians said that a large group of apes... or what's left of them... have been spotted near Warfang. They fear that they might try to attack," Spyro replied. I snorted.

"So stupid. Weak. Without someone to order them around, they're worthless. They got what they deserved. ...Or so I've heard," I said quickly. Spyro gave me an odd look.

"Nonetheless, they want us to get rid of them as soon as we can. They'd send out others, but the dragons, moles, and cheetahs in the city are either busy rebuilding Warfang or not in condition to go, and the wolves haven't been heard from in a long time. They—the Guardians—said if you were healed enough, you could go if you wanted to."

"Fine, I'll go," I said. Although you might think I wouldn't want to kill my old army, I had no qualms against it. They meant nothing to me. Although I had the pricking feeling that I had just agreed to help the enemy, I knew that acting as if I hated Warfang and its occupants, especially a certain one of them, I would just make myself conspicuous.

Spyro nodded. "What was your element, again? You never mentioned it."

"Oh... um... earth. Yeah, earth. But, I have... uh, a disease," I said quickly.

"A disease?" Spyro asked, raising an eyeridge.

"Yeah. I can't use my element. At all. Ever. There's no cure!"

"Oh. I'm sorry?" Spyro asked, unsure what to say.

"Sure, Spyro." I glanced at him nervously.

"We set out tomorrow morning," he said, glancing at me and letting whatever suspicions he had pass.

~~...~~

"So, we just get in, kill everything, and get out?" I asked.

"I suppose that's all," Spyro replied.

"You know, or you 'suppose'?"

"I'm not sure about this. I have a bad feeling..."

"Me, too," Cynder agreed.

"Well, we don't have time for supposing and wallowing in our bad feelings like we're depressed snails. Let's _move!"_ I barked, tramping forward and taking to the air.

Spyro and Cynder exchanged glances and followed.

It didn't take very long for us to reach the area the Guardians said they had spotted the apes, a few miles away from Warfang. We spotted a ruined outpost and flew closer. There was a wall made of stone, with large watchtowers dotted on the inside of it. Otherwise, the place was unremarkable, falling apart, and abandoned.

"Oh, I remember this place..." I murmured. When you're... well, me, you get into the habit of talking to yourself because you don't have anybody to talk to. I still hadn't quite broken this yet.

"What?" Cynder asked, looking at me.

"Hmm? Oh... nothing... Let's just get in here." I flew forward and landed in the courtyard. It was silent here. Doors led up to the watchtower, but otherwise, that was everything—or so it seemed.

Spyro looked around. "There's nothing here. We must be in the wrong place."

Cynder shook her head. "There's something below the fort. The apes dug a dungeon below these outposts to fool people into thinking it was abandoned. Just like now." She walked over to a seemingly innocent bush and brushed it aside, revealing a trap door.

"We have to go down there?" Sparx complained.I glared at him. "What?"

"You could always stay up here. Maybe if I'm lucky, a hawk will come along and eat you," I said coldly.

"Quit bickering, you two. Sparx, are you coming?"

"Sure. Just keep her far away from me." Sparx crossed his arms and flew after Spyro as he descended the stairs.

The dungeon's walls were of the same stone used to build the exterior. It was dark and damp, the only light coming from the strange glow Sparx emitted. I squinted and managed to make out some torch sconces through the dim light. One of the old memories of this place pricked up inside me.

"Spyro, light those torches," I whispered.

I could see Spyro looked around in the darkness. He walked over to a torch and lit it with his fire breath.

My gaze landed on the floor. Most of the tiles here were grey, but in the middle, there were a large cluster of white tiles. "This place is trapped. Don't step on those," I gestured to the white tiles, "and keep your eyes open."

We continued on until we reached a hallway. At the end of it was a iron door with a peekhole at the top. I reached up to turn the knob and push it open, but it wouldn't budge. I pushed harder. No result. It was barred. I backed up, then rushed forward and slammed into the door.

"Aaagh!" I yelled, sitting down and grabbing my bruised shoulder. I was never known for my strength.

"Nice going!" Sparx said with a laugh.

I hissed at him, glaring, my tail twitching. Sparx backed off. Spyro shook his head and rammed into the door, but unlike when I tried, it actually swung open. Spyro led the way, followed by Cynder. As I passed Sparx, I feint-snapped at him. He sped up.

"Stupid bug." I laughed to myself.


	6. Choices and Prisons

We entered into a long room that was eerily silent. Dust flew into the air as we headed inside and stepped over the wooden barrier that had flown off its hold when Spyro slammed into the door.

The room we entered had cells lined on either side of it. I closed my eyes for a moment and remembered walking this very hallway.

I couldn't help but grimace when I remembered the tedious duties that Father set me on. Scope out _this_ city, make sure _that_ outpost is in working condition. I wanted to be out fighting! What was all the training for if I wasn't going to use it?

How angry I was when Cynder was given the mission to capture the Guardians instead of me. I told him that they didn't have to be taken alive, but _no._

_Cynder always got to do everything,_ I thought sullenly, glancing at the aforementioned dragon walking beside me.

I diverted my thoughts away and just focused on taking one step after the other. If I focused on my past, I would be weak and open to attack. Who knew what was in this place... I needed to be on my guard at all times.

I glanced around. Spyro stopped to light a torch every so often, the flickering flame dimly lighting up the room. The cells were small and made of stone, but were otherwise bare. The bones of long-deceased prisoners of war laid inside them.

I blinked and squinted at the room beyond the hall. I exchanged glances with the others and quickened my pace until I reached the part of the room that widened out considerably. A desk was here, and laying on it was the key that opened all the cells. But, more importantly, there was a torch in here... and it was already lit.

I narrowed my eyes. "Stay alert. They're in here."

"Great to know. Can we leave now?" Sparx asked.

"Be quiet!" I hissed, walking forward. Unfortunately, while I was distracted, I triggered a trap. But it wasn't just any trap—it was a floor trap. The floor opened beneath us, sending all but Sparx tumbling down below.

I managed to grab onto the rock, my claws scraping loudly and slowing my descent, but it also caused me to flip around so I was upside down with my back facing the ground! I managed to turn myself over, but not in time to land on my feet, as the ground was a few inches away.

I was seeing stars, as I had landed on my head, and it certainly didn't help that Spyro landed on me and Cynder landed on him, before both toppled off me. I groaned, clutching my head with one paw. I definitely didn't remember _that_ trap!

_Next time I see one of those shadow apes, I need to tell them they did a good job for once... _I thought, shaking my head and wearily climbing to my feet.

"What just happened?" Spyro, who had already gotten to his feet, asked.

"Snake-girl here set off a trap. That's what happened," Sparx said flatly.

I was alarmed for a moment. Had I somehow revealed my real name while he was around? I realized that he was probably just commenting on the fact that I had a tendency to hiss when I was angry. I was so relieved that I didn't even offer a rebuttal.

Sparx flew forward. The odd light he gave off illuminated a set of steel bars. A cage. Of course. Anybody stupid enough to trigger the trap would probably be somebody trying to break into the fort, so the apes wouldn't have wanted them to get away.

"How are we going to get out?" Cynder whispered.

"I know a little trick, but I can't guarantee it'll work," I whispered, walking up to the cage door. I stuck my claw in the lock and fiddled around, but two minutes later, all I succeeded in doing was breaking off the tip of my claw.

Just as a clarification, I had learned how to pick a lock, but I didn't carry around lockpicks and claws were no good for these types of things. The skill hadn't been needed; it was really only taught to me just so I could know it. If I had actually been any good at picking locks, I may have been able to pull it off.

"Ouch! It'd be better if I had a lockpick or even a pin!" I growled, hopping back down onto four paws, as I had been leaning on the bars.

"I could try melting the bars," Spyro suggested.

"Don't bother. They're made of ieza." I had noticed this when Sparx flew near the bars. A defining feature of ieza was it's rainbow-reflective sheen.

"Ieza?" Spyro asked, staring at me.

"Yes. Ieza. It's a metal? It has an extremely high melting point, which is why it's often used for cages that may or may not house fire-breathing dragons," I said, waving my paw dismissively. "You're welcome to try, though."

~~...~~

"No matter how long you do that," I said to Spyro, who was breathing a continuous stream of fire at the bars, "they are not going to melt."

Spyro evidently ran out of breath energy. Again. He turned to me. "I have to try!"

"Trying doesn't always mean succeeding."

"Then I'll try harder!"

_"Or_ you could tell the firefly—"

_"Dragon_fly!" Sparx exclaimed indignantly.

"—to go scope out the place and bring the key or a lockpick back."

"Sparx, could you?" Spyro asked, turning to Sparx.

"I guess. But only because _you_ asked." Sparx turned, fluttering through the bars and out of sight. Thirty minutes later, he still hadn't returned.

"What's taking him so long?" I growled to myself.

"AAAAAAAH!" Sparx came flying around the corner of the room, holding a large rusty key and screaming all the way. I squinted into the darkness as Sparx hurriedly opened the cage door, and my eyes widened when I saw shadow apes running around the corner.

I couldn't help but shiver. The apes deserved to be what they were, but they were still creepy. They radiated pure shadow, they stared and stared with those dead, glowing green eyes, and they were just like they were in life. They consumed lives greedily, never stopping.

That's exactly why Father was wrong. He shouldn't have thrown the apes away when he was done with him. They were still of a little more use. Maybe if he had just waited until he was absolutely sure that the world was in his grasp...

In any case, Sparx zipped over to Spyro and hid behind his horn. I sighed in annoyance, ran over to the shadow apes, and began attacking them.

_If only I could use my elements,_ I thought as I swiped at an ape and watched a bolt of lightning breathed by Spyro collide with an ape. It crumpled into a heap of slightly charred bones.

The battle went on for about three minutes before the apes were finally dead. I sighed. There were only five, yet they were so hard to kill. If we were lucky, Sparx had alerted all of them and there were no more left.

We traversed the hallways. There were more cages down here, lit only by Sparx's glow. Spyro couldn't find any more torches.

"What...?" Cynder asked. I turned to her and my eyes widened as I realized she had stepped in a pool of blood. At the same time, Sparx flew near one of the cages. My blood ran cold as I realized there was the body of a dead cheetah in there... and it looked recently killed.

I swallowed a scream and stepped forward, examining the body. It looked like any normal cheetah. His fur, matted with blood, was a blueish color. He was wearing a green robe, which was also stained with scarlet streaks. I couldn't see his front, as he was lying face-down on the concrete floor.

I stepped back, just in time to hear dry cackles. Spyro, Cynder, and I looked around frantically, backing into each other. I almost didn't notice the green glow of the shadow ape's eyes, who were standing in a crowd around us. I should have known, of course. The shadow apes always laughed at you before attacking, just as they did in life.

The battle that ensued was fierce and fast-paced. When I finished with one ape, another was immediately upon me, and oftentimes I found that I was fighting five at once. I held back a hiss of pain as one of the apes slashed me with a skeletal paw, leaving deep scratches on my chest and lower neck. I stumbled back at the hit.

I glanced around, ducking another blow. An ape went sailing over me and slammed into a cage with a loud rattle. Spyro was clear on the other side of the room with Sparx and Cynder was too far away to see me in the wave of apes. I could get away with breathing poison, but not fear as it was too loud and noticeable.

I turned to the apes and breathed poison on them. The three that I hit screamed and began running around, blinded by the spray. I took another glance at Spyro and Cynder. They hadn't noticed me, so I continued to use poison against the shadow apes.

Their numbers finally began to dwindle. I stopped using my element for fear the other three would notice me. Finally, Cynder finished off the last one.

"Is everybody alright?" Spyro asked.

I glanced at my wound. It wasn't bleeding very heavily; the cut was more long than deep. I had a few other scratches, but they weren't too bad either.

"I'm fine," Cynder said.

"Me too," I said.

_"I'm _not alright! We just got attacked by hundreds of undead gorillas!" Sparx exclaimed.

"There were only fifty or so," I said flatly, making my way over to the others. I slipped on a bone and fell to the floor with an _oomph_. I saw stars for the second time that day.

No sooner had I reached the group when a cry pierced the air. "Help!" a male voice yelled.

"There's somebody else here!" Spyro exclaimed, running towards the voice and jumping over the scattered bones. Cynder and Sparx were right behind him, along with my reluctant self.

The shouting was coming from the other end of the room. We made our way over there, only to find an electricity dragon in a cage.

"H-hey, can you get me out of here?" the dragon stuttered, visibly quivering.

The dragon was the color of sunshine. His wing membrane was white and his horns were the same color as he was, but his underbelly and the spikes running along his back were orange. Finally, he had white arc markings on his forelegs. The dragon was small and scrawny, and he looked and sounded as if he were either an older teenager or a young adult. His eyes, a pale yellow, were shining with fear.

"Sparx, do you still have that key?" Spyro asked.

In response, Sparx flew forward and put the key he had been holding all this time, the same one used to unlock our cage, into the lock. The door swung open and the dragon inside took no time in scurrying out of there.

"Thank you for that. I thought I was never going to get out of here," the electricity dragon said.

"No problem," Spyro said.

"You got a name?" I asked.

"Bolt."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. It was bad enough I was a poison dragon named after a snake, but _Bolt?_

"How did you get down here, Bolt?" Cynder inquired.

"The shadow apes... I was out in the woods, and they managed to catch me. They dragged me back here and..." Bolt gulped and shivered. "Well, you saw what happened to the cheetah over there. I'm not sure what... exactly what they were doing. All I know is they did these horrible rites with the bodies, and when they were done, one of the shadow apes became real again. An ape, not just a shadow ape."

"Why were they turning themselves back to normal?" Spyro asked. Shock was apparent on his face.

"I don't know. All I know is that it wasn't for good reasons. They could be planning to attack Warfang or resurrect Malefor, though! We need to get out of here and... and warn somebody!" Bolt exclaimed.

"No. We need to get you back to Warfang so you can rest, and the rest of us need to tell the Guardians what has happened. And then, we need to stop the apes," Spyro said, his eyes narrowing.

I felt torn at that point. What if they were going to resurrect Father? Should I try to stop them? On the bright side, he would be alive again. But what if he believed I had joined the other side, and I didn't get a chance to explain? Father didn't exactly have patience. He acted on impulse, which was virtually his only weakness.

But what if the apes didn't intend to bring him back? They were my enemy now. As they say, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, but that thought only made everything more confusing. Spyro was my enemy, and he was the enemy of the shadow apes. The shadow apes were also my enemy, but they were in turn the enemy of Spyro. Did that make them all my friends or my enemies?

After I realized that I would be unable to wrap my head around such a concept, I turned to other thoughts. I finally decided that it would be best to help Spyro.

After all, any chaos that I fix will easily be undone once Spyro's dead.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**Just a note: I know the shadow apes in the game glow green, but I like the concept art where they're black and shadowy better, so I'm using that as a basis. xP**


	7. An Old Foe

"I found the stairs!"

I jumped. I had been standing near the cage of the dead cheetah, examining the body. Nothing about it was too unusual, except... There were small cuts all over his body, and all had been neatly made with painstaking care. I shuddered just thinking about what they might have done to him, the fear they might have inspired. Even I rarely tortured my victims—when I had to kill somebody, I got it over with and didn't spend time messing with their minds. Doing that might open a window for escape.

"Come on, Pisci," Spyro said as he passed me. I backed away from the cage and followed him over to where Sparx was. I squinted and saw the passageway leading up in the dim light.

"L-let's get out of here!" Bolt said, lighting up the stairs.

"Hey, wait!" I exclaimed, but he was already gone.

I dashed up the stairs and burst onto the main floor a few seconds later... just in time to see the ground swallow Bolt. I smacked my paw to my face in annoyance.

"Idiot," I growled, turning on my heel and tramping back down the stairs past Spyro and Cynder. Heading towards the small room, I met Bolt about halfway towards it. He looked disoriented and slightly bruised, but otherwise fine.

"Sorry," Bolt mumbled, averting his gaze.

"Get up there and stay with the group," I hissed. "Next time you won't be so lucky."

We climbed the stairs again, except this time the stupid dragon stayed in the back. We stuck close together, like a pack of wolves, each carefully but hurriedly making our way through the underground fortress.

The air, which had previously been thick and musty, began to thin. I stepped lightly, glad to almost be out of this place. I had never liked the crudely-made ape fortresses. Being underground made me tense, and I always expected the ceiling to come crashing down on me. But of course, that thought was a silly one.

"You must never be afraid, Cottonmouth," Father had once said. We had been sitting on the roof of the fortress together, surveying the land below. I had looked up at him quizzically.

"Fear is weakness," he said." And if you are weak, you will die, just like all of those that you have slaughtered thus far. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Father."

Perhaps it was not me who had been afraid. But... Father was _never_ afraid... never. Not even Spyro could have frightened him. Father willingly called out to death, so he could not have feared dying.

And as for me... Fear, I had felt fear before, but I always shook its cold grip off. Inside me, though, there was just a twinge of it when I thought about what I would do to kill Spyro. But I always shook it off, reminding myself of Father's words.

I glanced back to the hallway I had left, the door Spyro had rammed down. The door was metal, and it had been barred. He was strong, no doubt about it. But not even the strongest among us are invincible... I was faster, stealthier. I was poisonous, and nobody is resistant to poison. Not even the purple dragon.

When we finally made it outside, I sucked in my breath, deeply inhaling the sweet air. The moons shone in the sky, casting their pale light on the fort. The trees that rose even higher than the fort's walls waved gently in the breeze.

There was a chill in the air, which was odd because it was the middle of summer. Although I had never liked the thick, damp, mosquito-filled summer nights, this was just strange.

Cynder was the first to start forward. I followed reluctantly, the soft sound of my steps not penetrating the great stillness around me. I felt unsafe, somehow, and that feeling only increased as I left the fort and entered the woods.

The sweet smell of magnolia, the earthy clover flower, and various other flora was everywhere here. I had always loved flowers when I was young; so delicate, poison seeping through their leaves so easily. I saw so few flowers and I hated to destroy them, though watching them fade had always somehow comforted me. But they did nothing to quell my suspicion now.

"Coo-WOO-ooo!" I nearly jumped out of my scales when I heard the sudden burst of noise.

"AAAH!" Bolt cried, dropping flat on the ground. Spyro and Cynder dropped into a defensive stance and Sparx flew to the back of the group.

I whipped around, trying to find the source of the noise, and released a breath when I saw a brown bird sitting on a branch. It regarded our small group with curiosity, cocking a flecked head. It was clearly not a speaking bird, as it didn't say anything, only released another "Oo."

Bolt smiled sheepishly and stood up. I rolled my eyes as Spyro and Cynder straightened, and Sparx slowly flew forward. Embarrassed, the group continued forward.

I hung at the back until the others were far away. When I was sure they weren't close enough to notice, I quickly turned and breathed a small ball of poison at the bird. It didn't even see it coming and wasn't sure of what happened until it hit the ground. I took off after the others and the dying bird shrieked, "Roo-_oo!"_ before falling silent.

Bolt looked back, but I had already slowed my pace. "W-what was that?" he squeaked.

"Nothing," I said flatly. "Shut up and watch the road."  
>Bolt, eyes wide, shut his mouth and inched in between Spyro and Cynder, likely trying to get as far away from me as possible.<p>

We were all exhausted from our trek into the fortress, so there was no way we could muster the strength to fly back to Warfang. This didn't help the situation at all. And another problem presented itself as we walked deeper into the forest. I knew for certain we were going the right way, but somehow I felt we were lost. A deep fog suddenly settled in, which only made me more uneasy than ever.

I looked around, the feeling of dread in my chest growing with every step I took. Something was very wrong here. Forcing myself to remain calm, I stopped and looked around.

"Something wrong, Pisci?" Spyro asked.

"Listen," I said, eyes narrowing. "What do you hear?"

"I don't hear anything," Cynder replied, looking around too. I could tell she felt as much trepidation as I did.

"Exactly. The animals aren't making any sound at all."

"So?" Bolt said, peering out from behind Cynder.

"Something's disturbed them. And it's not us." I squinted through the trees, trying to make out any forms, but the thick fog and the crushing darkness wouldn't allow it. It turns out I didn't need to find them anyway.

Howling laughter boomed through the forest. I stiffened and whirled around, but the deep guffaws and high-pitched giggles were coming from everywhere. Spyro, Cynder, and I backed ourselves into a tight circle, eyes darting every which way, but we didn't have to wait in suspense for long. I wasn't very shocked when apes began to emerge from the shadows—I could recognize those laughs anywhere. But it did take a moment for one thing to sink in.

Every last one of them had flesh.

I betrayed shock for just a moment, but I snapped my mouth shut and narrowed my eyes, dropping into a low pounce stance. The ape nearest to me snorted and laughed, but I took the time to analyze him. He had tawny brown fur that was knotted in mats and eyes of about the same colour. His armour was made of leather, which was typical of any ape in a moderately temperate region, and carried no weapons (the same with all of the other apes here). If he had still been in the Dark Army, he would have been at the leader stage.

Apes had had their ranks assigned based on how old they were. The soldiers, who I had nicknamed "Mutes" due to the fact that they were only allowed to speak under special circumstances (such as being questioned by a higher rank or relaying information to others), had only just reached the older adolescent stage. If they survived long enough to grow into a full-fledged adult, then they assumed the rank of leader. About twenty years later, they would become commanders, unless there was a shortage of them in which case a lucky leader would assume the role.

And then, of course, there had been Gaul. But he was a special case. He was older than every other ape there was, and had been the Ape King for as long as anybody (even the oldest commander, who was reportedly rumoured to have been over a hundred years old) could remember. Some even said he was King before Father had come around. But that was impossible—I wasn't sure how old Father was and when exactly the war began, but apes didn't outlive dragons.

But back to the matter at hand. The leader ape standing before me chuckled darkly and I instantly remembered who he was. Celtae. The bane of my very early life—what I privately referred to as the pre-Cynder years. Celtae had tortured me mercilessly before Cynder had come along. After, he mostly left me alone, and definitely didn't try to tangle with me once I started my training.

"So Pisci's your name now?" Celtae inquired once he saw that I recognized him. "What's wrong? Don't you remember me?"

"How could I forget?" I hissed in a low voice. I wanted to say more, but everybody else present was staring at me as if I had sprouted another leg and it was going to be hard enough to come up with an excuse already.

"I'm going to take so much satisfaction in killing you... _Pisci," _Celtae said mockingly.

I growled. "Bring it on, ape. I'll put you in the ground!"

Celtae laughed, and all of the other apes laughed with him as if to taunt me. The noise was deafening, echoing through the whole forest, and any birds that were left in the area burst into the air in a flurry of panicked squawks and frantic flapping. Feathers drifted to the ground like raindrops, but by the time they landed on the ground, the fight had already begun.

Celtae took the first swipe, aiming for my head with sharp claws. I ducked under the swing and retaliated with my own before jumping to the side to dodge Celtae's kick. Angered that he hadn't hit me yet, he rushed forward and tried to knock me over, but again I jumped to the side.

"Ouch!" In the chaos, I hadn't heard the ape soldier running towards me. He dragged his claws down my side and before I knew it another was on me—literally! I threw the ape off. He slammed into the trunk of a nearby tree and was knocked unconscious. Huffing, I turned to face the other ape, but Celtae came out of nowhere and this time his kick collided.

I was sent flying, and though I managed to flip myself over, didn't land on my feet and skidded over the ground. Fallen leaves went flying in my wake, and when I finally came to a stop, I was up immediately.

I glanced at Spyro and Cynder. They were fending off a group of about five soldiers that was reduced to four as soon as I finished counting. They seemed to be handling themselves fine, so I looked for Bolt. He and Sparx were hiding behind a tree, but I saw Bolt peek out from behind it and breathe a blast of electricity. The enemy that it hit, one of the soldiers that Spyro and Cynder were fighting, died on contact.

_So he can fight after all, _I thought. I glanced at Spyro and Cynder again. They were too close for me to get away with using elements, so with a sigh I dashed towards Celtae and managed to ram into him and topple him.

Surprised that had worked, I used this to my advantage and managed to get a few scratches in before Celtae could roll to his feet. I nearly groaned. There was no way I was going to get anything done at this rate, not without my elements!

_Fine, if I can't use poison here, I'll just go somewhere else, _I thought. I immediately turned and dashed off into the forest, looking back to make sure Celtae was following. He was, but apes were so slow. I could have outrun him if I had wanted to, but I didn't, only kept at a leisurely pace.

Finally, when the clearing was no longer in sight through the thick trees, I turned and ran forward. Celtae skidded to a stop and tried to swat me away as if I were a fly, but I jumped into the air at the last moment. I managed to bite down onto his shoulder. Celtae screamed and tried to throw me off, but I breathed poison into the wound the moment he grabbed me.

This time, I landed on my feet after flying through the air, and watched Celtae as he dropped to his knees, life already draining from him like blood streaming from a wound. I walked over to him, face blank.

"Didn't you see that coming, Celty?" I inquired in an innocent voice, eyes wide, before smirking.

"C-curse you... Cotton..." Celtae coughed and glared at me through eyes that were beginning to glaze over. His breathing became heavier and more ragged.

"There's no antidote for you now, unlike the last time you let me bite you," I said, rolling my eyes. "What were you thinking? Did you believe I brought you out here to have a nice chat or something?"

My only answer was the glare that became harder and harder as the seconds ticked by. I turned and walked past Celtae, only stopping to speak to him one last time.

"You were always foolish," I hissed. "Father would have wanted this. Not that it matters to you anymore." I chuckled darkly and strode on. I didn't look back, not even when I heard the telltale crunching of leaves under dead weight.

What I had done was the basic equivalent to being bitten by a snake. The difference was that death came sooner, within minutes or even seconds, depending on how much poison was breathed into them and where they were bitten. I wasn't exactly a normal poison dragon; I breathed venom that was less acidic and also less likely to burn an ape's skin off. This wasn't a blessing in a lot of scenarios, but invaluable in others, such as the one that had just occurred.

When I made it back to the clearing, Spyro was finishing off the last ape with a blast of earth. The ape, thrown back, roughly slammed into the thick trunk of a dead tree. He slid down it and was still when he hit the ground.

"What did he mean?" Bolt demanded, emerging from his hiding place and glaring at me.

I sighed. "You're going to have to be a little more specific."

"The ape said your name wasn't Pisci and that you'd met him before. What did he mean?" Spyro asked, distrust clearly showing in his eyes.

"If you're worried about me being on their side, don't. If we were allies, then I obviously wouldn't be helping you stop them. We have to keep moving before more of them come for us," I said impassively, starting forward.  
>"Wait. You're not telling us something," Spyro said.<p>

I sighed again and turned around, thoughts dashing through my mind. What could I _say? _Yes, I knew him before because he was in the Dark Army run by my father, and I'm a trained assassin who's going to kill you. But we can still be best friends, right?

"Fine. You caught me." I said as I turned around, voice radiating sarcasm. "He was the one who killed my parents. I didn't tell him my real name because I couldn't let him find me if I got away. Are you happy?" Remembering my act, I plopped to the ground and looked at the dirt mournfully.

"Hey... sorry I brought it up," Bolt said a bit awkwardly, walking carefully over to me as if I were a monster waiting to pounce. "It just doesn't hurt to be careful."

Spyro and Cynder nodded in agreement, but Sparx, who was hovering near them with his arms crossed, didn't look convinced. I wasn't worried about it; it wasn't like _he _would be able to figure it out. And it was Spyro's trust I needed anyway; it didn't matter what anybody else thought.

"It doesn't matter. Come on, let's get back to Warfang before we get completely lost." I squinted through the trees as if sheer will would dispel the fog and walked forward.

We continued on in silence for a long time, nobody speaking. Eventually, we found the path that led back to Warfang. It was made of worn stone blocks that had cracks running through them and threatened to break under our weight, but it was a path and it would get us out of here. I sighed with relief when the forest finally faded and Warfang was clearly visible, only a few miles away.

"Is everybody strong enough to fly?" Spyro asked.

I nodded, though I'd rather just walk. The faster we got to Warfang, the faster we could rest. The others nodded too, so we took to the air (though I struggled quite a bit getting into it and staying there). Luckily, keeping up with the others was easy enough.

"Not a strong flier?" Cynder asked me.

_Too perceptive, _I thought. _I have to be more careful; she knew I was always bad at flying. I can't let her find out._

"I'm just a little tired, that's all," I said slowly, watching her carefully for any signs of recognition. But if she suspected anything, she didn't show it, as her face remained blank and she turned back forward. I fell back so nobody would see the relief on my face.

If Cynder found out, it would be over. She'd know I hadn't changed and might even attack me, now that she had switched sides. Father had called her a traitor, and a traitor she was, but she was my friend—or at least had been—so I couldn't hurt her.

_But she killed him too, _a voice in my head said. _It wasn't just Spyro who defeated him._

_It doesn't matter. She's my friend._

_And she did the very thing you're taking revenge on Spyro for._

_This is different. If it wasn't for him, Cynder wouldn't have switched sides in the first place. Just shut up. _I knew that the voice had a point, but I didn't want to hear it. Cynder was the only friend I'd ever had, and I wasn't going to hurt her no matter what she had done. Period.

"I'm going home," Bolt announced. We had just flown over the wall and were now soaring over the city. "You can come too if you want. I'm sure Mom'll want to meet the ones who saved me." Bolt shuddered, probably recalling what might have happened to him had we not come along.

I gazed down contemplatively over the city as we flew down closer to it. A lot of things were on my mind now, but I tried not to let them worry me. The end of my plan wasn't even in sight yet, and I would have plenty of time to think about how I was going to go about killing Spyro later.

Our party dropped down in the south district, the one nearest to the temple. Bolt visibly brightened and walked quickly until we stopped at one of the houses in the middle. Before anybody could speak, the door flew open and a yellow blur came flying—metaphorically speaking—out of it.

"Bolt!" the blur cried, nearly tackling the aforementioned dragon.

"Mom!" Bolt answered, hugging her. "I'm so glad to see you."

"Where have you _been, _Bolt? Kira and I were so worried!" Bolt's mother exclaimed. Now that she stood still, I could see her clearly.

She highly resembled Bolt in both colour and stature; she was a sunny yellow that was just a bit brighter and she was as small and thin as her son. Her eyes were a dull electric blue and were very expressive, and right now their expression was a cross between joy, anger, and fear.

"Bolt!" a small voice screeched, and I watched another, smaller blur zip out of the house and immediately attach itself to Bolt's foreleg before firing off into a rapid blast of words. "Wheredidyoug-gowasitcoold-d-didyouseeashadowape?" By the sound of it, it could've been a girl, but I was too busy wondering what in the world it had just said to deduce its gender.

"Kira, calm down," Bolt's mother said calmly. "Your brother is probably very tired."

"But _Mom!" _the small dragon called Kira complained. "I'm excited to see him!"  
>"It's fine, Mom," Bolt said, smiling at Kira (who was in all respects identical to her mother). "I'll tell you about it later. Let's just say these four are the only reason I'm standing here now. They saved me, just in time." Bolt breathed a sigh of relief.<p>

"Well, you all have my deepest thanks for saving my son," Bolt's mother said with a sigh of relief, turning to our group who stood awkwardly in a group, unsure what to do.

"You're welcome," Spyro said. "We couldn't just leave him there."

"Of course not," Bolt's mother said with a nervous laugh, likely not wanting to think about that. "Come on, Bolt, we have a lot to talk about. Goodbye, and thank you again." With that, Bolt, Kira, and their mother disappeared into the dark house.

There was a short pause before I spoke. "We better get back to the Guardians so we can tell them about what happened."

The others said nothing, only nodded and walked forward. I was left to my thoughts, though I didn't have long to think, as the temple that loomed over the city and watched us like a crow wasn't far off. Sighing, I thought about Bolt, and to my surprise I realized I felt sympathy for him and his family. Just thinking about what might have happened to them if we hadn't saved him...

I tried to shake the thoughts off, thinking to myself that perhaps I had grown soft. What did I care what happened to his family? I had killed many people before and I'm sure they all had a family, yet I didn't feel anything for them.

_But this is different now, isn't it? _That annoying little voice in my mind chimed brightly.

Different. I resisted snorting. The only thing different was that Father was dead. I was still the same as I had been before, as strong as I had ever been. Sympathy was for the weak, and I was not weak.

...Was I?

Perhaps I _was _going soft, but I could never truly change. Cynder had managed to, perhaps, but she was not born right into the darkness as I had been. In fact, I was born _from_ darkness, the child of the blackest evil. Things like that, like what I was, didn't change.

I passed into the shadow that the temple cast over the hill, and I felt safe. I would make the greatest shadow of all proud, finally, even if he would never know it.


End file.
